


Shadows Fall

by AnnaBananaSplit



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/M, Horror, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-27
Updated: 2016-04-27
Packaged: 2018-06-04 22:22:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6677647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnnaBananaSplit/pseuds/AnnaBananaSplit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You've been the Warden, Hawke and the Inquisitor. But now you actually are. For real this time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shadows Fall

     “You’re going to help me, right?”  
   

     “And why would I do that?”

  
     “Because you’ve been helping me the last ten years. Why stop now?”

  
     “Oh, it’s you again.” She says seeing through your eyes. She sees you for more than yourself. She sees

every previous incarnation. “I admit I had my suspicions, but you’ve never been one of the people before.

What are you, child?” Her gaze seemed soft and thoughtful, but you knew her well enough that you could see

the gears turning behind those cold, golden eyes.

  
     “I don’t know anymore. I could tell you my story: summarize it in a sentence or two even.” You laughed

bitterly, hoping she’d remember the time you summarized all the harsh ships of her own life. She did and

the laugh that followed boomed like that of a dragon’s.

  
                                                                                                  ***

  
     You used to be human. Born before the turn of the century in a working class suburb. Your family didn’t

have much, but your parents did the best they could to support you and your siblings after the fire. It wasn’t

until sometime after college that the accident happened. You had been planning getting a pet once you had

saved up enough, but you’d been living alone for quite some time now. You made it a habit of collecting

heirlooms and occult oddities from flea markets. You had become obsessed with glass figurines of wolves.

They began to litter your room like they were clothes. This was how the events of that night played out:

  
     You aren’t really afraid of storms. Not when you can keep all the lights on, and you definitely weren’t back

when you lived at home with your parents. Maybe it was because of all the horror movie commercials on TV lately

or the weird R & B songs the couple across the hall are playing to cover up their loud sex noises... which isn’t working,

by the way. You’d left the faucet on in the kitchen to help, but the water began to slow a few minutes ago. Soon it

drips as if someone had turned it off. That’s when you notice that the hallway of your apartment building was

completely silent.

  
     You peel yourself off the synthetic leather of your couch and make your way across the small studio

apartment to fiddle with the sink. Turning the knobs doesn’t help. There’s a loud bang of thunder that causes

you to jump without meaning to. The heavy anxiety that you’re being watched tingles across your skin. Your

glass wolves’ sharp smiles no longer bring you comfort. You quickly close all the curtains in the room, blocking

your second story view, and return back to the couch to blast the TV over the noise. Except that the minute you

do another commercial for a horror movie plays and the sound of the woman’s scream from your TV is unsettling.

You reach for the remote next to you but it’s already gone. You feel around the cold fabric of the couch, you even

dig your fingers into the creases, but nothing.

  
     You can’t stand to hear the TV anymore and sprint into your bathroom to turn the faucet on full blast. You

almost want to splash water in your face to bring you back to your senses, but you remember a scene in a horror

movie where that happened once and think better of it. Though your reflection in the mirror catches your eye. The

shadow over your face makes you look tired, your eyes sunken, your mouth pulled into a tight frown. It triggers

your imagination again. This time you remember a scene of a woman reaching out of a mirror and pulling on the

real person on the other side. Except it’s not your imagination. An ice cold familiar hand clutches your wrist, 

tugging and pulling at you. You scream. Your lungs feel tight, like you aren’t breathing, like you can’t breathe.

Reflexively you kick the glass, causing the hand to recoil and the other you’s face to twist in pain like they may vomit.

  
     You run out of the studio apartment so quickly that you forget your phone or that you aren’t even wearing

shoes. You bang on the door across the hallway.

No one answers.

You bang on the door to the right.

No one answers.

You bang on several doors on your way running down the hall.

No one answers.

  
     Soon you come to the end of the hall way. It’s the last door and by this time you’ve already started

pleading with any deity that you can think of the name of for your life. Even the name "Mythal" slips from

your lips. Your anxious fists pound on the last door. The handle jiggles and the door creaks open. What

you see makes you vomit in your mouth and you turn on your heel so quick it’s just an automatic response

at this point. You bolt for the stairs, you even jump down several steps as you struggle not to slip and fall

on your face. The wolf-like grin haunts your every thought. You can hear the heavy sound of the footsteps

behind you. They sound far away though it feels like something damp is breathing on the back of your neck.

  
     You finally reach the doors of your building when a shooting pain stings through your hands. Everything is

white. You assume you’ve been hit my lightning or some kind of static shock. The pain gets unbearable within

nanoseconds. Something wet touches your shoulder and you can feel your head as it slams onto the concrete

of the floor.

  
     When you come to, the ground is muddy and black. You’re yawn and pull your hands through your hair. It

feels shorter than you remember. You open your eyes and look at your hands. Your skin tone is ever so slightly

different a shade. The difference is so slight you question what exactly it is that is different. Was it a green twinge?

Or maybe you were darker than you’d been? A chuckle rings through your throbbing head. It’s the kind of migraine

you don’t know you have until sound or light hits you. You look up only to be greeted by golden eyes staring you down.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not really sure where I'm going with this yet. It was originally an exercise for my speculative fiction class but I saw some Dragon Age influence and thought I'd just go for it. Kind of the opposite of my other story since this one is fantasy (the other is scifi). Might jump to inquisition but the idea is that you've literally played/lived through all three of the protagonist's story with a certain somebody's help. Not sure if this is going to take place in the real world or the DA world. I'm thinking about going the choose your own adventure route. I'll mull it over some before continuing. Also, if it helps, the wolf motif isn't Solas.


End file.
